


The Dark Days Aren't Over

by tempered_rose



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempered_rose/pseuds/tempered_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven does some reflection over the holidays...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dark Days Aren't Over

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Multifandom Exchange on Livejournal. I wanted to write a more darker version of the Doctor, but I don't think I quite succeeded at that part so instead it's just really super angsty.

The Doctor looked back to the blue-painted front door of the home he had just left. Rory and Amy had been kind to invite him for Christmas dinner, although now in the cold bite of winter, the Doctor wished they hadn’t. He did not celebrate the human’s holiday, even though many of his companions tried to get him to do so over the years. He was not against the time; he thought it was a nice thought to celebrate with ones’ family and friends the holiday cheer.

But the Doctor had no family to celebrate with, and there weren’t that many friends he could rely on that were not human. Sure, other species existed out there, he was more than well aware of that fact, only they did not share the humans’ custom and holiday.

Instead of going immediately back to the TARDIS and away from the planet he had protected for so long, the Doctor walked down the streets with his hands casually in his pockets and felt the swirl of snow around his face. If he had been like his old self, he would have had his trench coat flowing around behind him instead of the tweed jacket that clung to himself now. The Doctor adjusted his bowtie and stopped at the corner of the street and closed his eyes.

He remembered the first Christmas he’d had as his old self and how a family had taken him in and cared for him, even when he was not up to par. He could effortlessly recall the blonde hair that had fallen around her shoulders and onto his chest and the brown eyes full of such concern that the one he cared for most had given him that day. She had trusted him implicitly, often risked her life for his own, and had loved him so selflessly it had cost her her own existence.

The Doctor’s eyes opened and he swallowed. He felt the familiar guilt inside of him as well as the gaping hole of loss. She would never know that he loved her, the real him and not the copy. Although it had been a solution to give the copy of himself to her, the Doctor wondered if it had been the right decision. Rose would be happy with him, but was she truly happy with her substitute? He himself knew that he was jealous that he wasn’t there with her; the balm of knowing that part of him was only twisted his insides with jealousy and a self-contempt that was unique only to him. Truly it wasn’t him that was holding Rose, but another male. It wasn’t him that was able to share secrets, kiss her lips, have intimate conversations about nothing, or reproduce together. It was another and that twisted the insides of the Doctor in guilt and remorse.

But she’s safer now, the Doctor told himself. She would not be harmed in any way and she would not have to worry about growing older and dying alone without him.

The Doctor looked down the empty street and saw lights on in the homes of the others who lived on Rory and Amy’s street. They were all tucked away safely and happily with their families. They were safe, comfortable, happy. The Doctor was not naïve enough to think that the entirety of the world was safe and happy, but he could hope that everyone felt at least some comfort on the holiday.

Still, his mind would not rest.

Rose, he lamented her name and looked at the inky blackness of the sky. The streetlamps took away any ability to see a star; too many lamps in a city full of chaos and he would never be able to see the stars in this place. Rose had loved the stars.

She had loved the adventures, the danger, the knowledge. She had lusted after the thrill of a new quest, a new challenge that was so different from the pale and the boring monotony of her human life. Was she happy now? Did she still want to see the stars and feel the cold of space against her face as she pressed it against the window? Did his copy satisfy the desires she had? Did he satisfy all of them?

The Doctor sighed and started away from the snow-covered street. He kept walking and walking, uncaring of where he went now. He shivered, but he didn’t notice it. Cold was something he was used to, and the loneliness. And the guilt. The hurt. The despair.

It wasn’t just Rose that he was lamenting, the Doctor noticed. It was all of them. The ones who had put their faith in him, their unwavering trust, and their complete loyalty. He had repaid them with adventure, but also what had he taken from them? How many had suffered because of him? That number was too high, and he knew it.

The TARDIS came into view and the Doctor stopped. Rose would have liked to have met her, the way Amy had. Sometimes the Doctor wished that Rose had done things that Amy, or some of the others, had gotten to do. He wondered if things might have worked out differently had Rose still been around. Perhaps some people would never have been hurt if only he had managed to save Rose the cybermen had come. If only… it was an opening to a statement that he wished he could change; he had said it many times in the past few years.

The Doctor touched the side of the TARDIS and felt something akin to comfort seep through his fingers and into his bloodstream. He smiled slightly and adjusted his bowtie before he snapped his fingers to open the door. He walked inside and turned to look back to the sky. If he squinted he thought he could make out a star. He smiled slightly, more to himself than anyone else.

“Happy Christmas Rose.”

Then he turned and let the TARDIS close her doors before he started the journey back into space.


End file.
